Or Are We Dancers?
by bearfeathers
Summary: 150 prompts for 150 words. (Romantic pairings will be displayed on each chapter, otherwise all fills are gen.)


It isn't until they're airborne that Joe realizes he's still holding the ray gun 004 had tossed to him in a moment of desperation in their battle back on the ground. Awkwardly, he holds it out before him, silently offering to return it to its owner. The silver-haired cyborg's head turns his way, a faint smirk on his face.

"Thanks for the offer, kid. Keep it."

004 must be able to read the confusion on Joe's face, because he lifts his right hand with a faint chuckle. A sound like a bullet being loaded into a chamber reaches the teen's ears. Now that he thinks about it, perhaps someone whose body houses that many weapons doesn't really need to be weighed down by any more. Clearing his throat, he offers a small nod of thanks and sheaths the ray gun in the empty holster at his hip.

* * *

The matter of ownership isn't brought up again until quite some time later. Likely not the most convenient of times, but then these kinds of things so rarely happen at convenient times that he supposes he really shouldn't be surprised. The cybernetic soldiers outnumber them to begin with, but Jet's busted leg, a strategic retreat in order to regroup with the rest of their team is the best option. Joe really does plan on doing just that. It's just that he hadn't counted on his ray gun being knocked from its holster along the way.

He freezes where he is, Jet's arm slung around his shoulders, when the missing weight finally registers. He looks back, frantically scanning the battlefield for where he may have dropped it. His momentary distraction does not escape the notice of his teammates.

"009, get a move on!" Albert hollers from where he's providing cover fire. "I can't exactly hold these guys off forever!"

"I just have to…" Joe mumbles, more to himself than anything else.

"009, what the fu—"

He doesn't wait for Jet to finish the sentence. Spotting his ray gun, he depresses his back molar with his tongue, kicking into his acceleration mode. Everything slows down to a crawl as he zips towards his sidearm, retrieving it from where it lies and taking out a soldier or two for good measure while he's there. With the ray gun securely in its holster, he's back at Jet's side as though he never left.

"—ck are you doing?" Jet grates angrily. He blinks, perplexed, having noted his comrade's brief dip into acceleration mode. "009!?"

"Come on!" Joe shouts over the noise, pulling the American onto his back. "Let's get out of here while we still can!"

Albert isn't far behind them and once the way is clear, the three of them do their best to put some distance between them and their pursuers. Ten minutes later finds the trio squatting in a small, damp cave and catching their breaths.

"What the hell _was_ that?" Jet wants to know, grimacing as Albert ties his scarf around the joint of his knee. "You seriously went back for a stupid ray gun?"

"I have to admit, I'm rather surprised myself," Albert chimes in. "It was a pretty foolish move considering we're not exactly in short supply of them on the Dolphin."

Joe feels heat rise to his cheeks.

"I know, I'm sorry," he says, the ray gun in question held in his lap. "I just couldn't bring myself to leave it behind."

"Please don't tell me it's for some weird, bullshit sentimental reason," Jet says flatly.

Joe coughs. Jet groans. Albert warns him to keep it down before someone hears them.

"It's just that I've had this one since the first day I met all of you," Joe says slowly. He glances over at Albert. "You tossed it to me when we were escaping and when I tried to give it back, you told me to keep it. Even though I know that's not really what you meant by it, I'm not one to throw away something that was given to me. Especially not when it was given to me by a friend. Besides, it's… sort of a good luck charm, in its own way."

By the time Joe looks up, Jet and Albert are regarding him in a confused silence. It all sounded a lot better to him before he actually said it.

"Huh!" Jet says with a sly grin. "And here I thought it was _003_ you had a thing for."

The implication is not lost on Joe.

"What? No!" he sputters. He turns to face Albert, sure his cheeks are a healthy fire engine red, "It's not like that, honestly!"

"Relax," Albert says with a quick bark of laughter, waving his hand. "I get it. Actually, it's kind of flattering. It's nice to know you feel that strongly about our friendship."

"Well, yeah, of course I do," Joe answers with an embarrassed huff of laughter.

"You guys are gonna make me barf," Jet complains, leaning back against the cool wall of the cave.

"That's just the injuries talking. We all know you're a big softie under all that bravado," Albert says, his expression smug.

As Jet and Albert dissolve into another of their famous arguments, Joe turns the ray gun over in his hands. A lot had changed the day he'd first picked this up. For all the terrible things that had happened to them, he finds that, as he watches his two companions, it's not difficult to see the good that had come with it.


End file.
